Naked
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"The best protection any woman can have ... is courage."
Elizabeth Cady Stanton
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Margot
I wake up with my head feeling like it had just been hit with a sledgehammer. Hardly opening my eyes, I check the alarm clock on the nightstand. It reads 10:30am.
Ten-thirty?
Why didn't Maria wake me up earlier. After all, she should know that after partying so hard last night, I would...
And that is when it all comes back to me.
Immediately, my eyes flies open. I take in my surrounding and realize two things:
One: I am definitely not in my room
Two: I AM NAKED
Oh my gosh, that son of a bitch, what's his name again?
Damon?
David?
Drake?
Derek?
Yes! Derek, that's his name.
Everything that happened after I sat in his lap and realized I had been drugged is unknown to me. It was like as if after that, my brain had entered 'Wipe Margot's Memory' mode.
Did he...Did he...Did he ra...
Fuck!
The mere thought makes ocean of tears start running down my face.
This was never in the plan I had for my life.
A painful laugh escapes me.
Who puts being raped in their life's plan anyway.
If only Metisha hadn't insisted on us going to the club without bodyguards.
If only Jules hadn't gotten so drunk Metisha had to take her to the restroom.
Hell!
If only I had gotten sick and was not able to go to that goddamn club!
Enough with the self-pity now! What's done is done. I throw the white duvet off me and stand up.
Wait!
I'm not totally naked. My panties are still on.
I'm wearing my fucking panties.
Maybe, just maybe I didn't get raped after all.
Or maybe after he had raped you, he put the panties back on you.
A voice says in my head but I choose to ignore it, for now at least, holding tight to the slight hope I have like a true Christian would hold unto his or her faith.
I don't know how long but I just stand there, like a criminal the Judge had just told he was to serve life imprisonment, trying to fathom how I had gone from partying Margot to kidnapped Margot. I put my hands over my face as I burst into another torrent sobs.
I still can't believe this. I really can't.
I sit back down, not knowing what to do. I am without cell phone, money or even clothing. I look towards the door that seems to lead outside this room. It's likely that the bastard locked the door. Even if he didn't, there's no way I'm going out there naked.
It's nothing he hadn't seen last night.
The voice in my head says again. At this very moment, I feel like killing myself, like the world should just come to an end. Then, I hear footsteps at the other side of the door that leads out of this room.
Quickly, keeping my eyes glued to the door, I reach behind me to grab the lamp on the nightstand. I'm not going down without a fight. Let the son of a bitch come in and meet his death. And why the hell does the lamp feel so soft and fluffy?
I look at what I'm holding and discover, to my mystification, that I'm holding a sweater dress!
A sweater dress!
The fucker drugs me, kidnaps me, strips me out of my cloth and then gives me a sweater dress?
Maybe it's not even meant for you. There's still a slight chance he raped you.
Shut up! Just shut the fuck up! I whisper harshly to my subconscious.
I stand up again and begin to pace, momentarily forgetting about the dress. Then, a thought crosses my mind, there might be a CCTV camera hidden somewhere. Hastily, I pick up the red and black striped dress and put it on. This is when I notice the footsteps have stopped. Maybe there was no footstep in the first place, maybe it was just a figment of my imagination.
I am proven wrong when about five seconds later, I hear a light knock.
Without thinking twice, I grab the lamp that I just notice had been beside the sweater dress, by the way. Gripping the lamp tightly, I look towards the door as it opens and reveals the person who knocked.
"You wake, my dear?" I have never been more shocked in my life as I come face to face with an elderly woman in a lilac sari walking towards me.
Uh...Definitely not what I was expecting.
"What is the beautiful name for beautiful girl?" The woman asks, her thick Indian accent evident as she stops in front of me, shining her perfect white teeth.
Wait!
Am I in India?
How the heck did I get to India?
Do they plan to sell me off as a sex worker?
When I notice she keeps looking at me expectantly, I remember she asked me a question, "I'm Margot or Margie, anyone you prefer."
"Ah, Margot, beautiful name for beautiful girl." Then, as if remembering something pleasant, her face lit up, making her smile more beautiful. She points at me, "You,", then points at herself, "be my new English teacher. Mr. Parker try but I like you. Mr. Parker, his face harsh, you, your face fine." She says and reaches to touch my face. I am so stunned by this that I couldn't move an inch, even when she touches my cheek lightly, "Fine and soft."
"Um, Mrs..." I trail off, having no idea what her name is.
"Anushka Rakesh." She provides, her radiant smile coming alive again, Call me Mama Anu. Mr. Parker call me Mama Anush but me," she shakes her head so vigorously I am surprised it doesn't fall off, "I no like."
Note to brain: Remember not to call Mama Anu Mama Anush.
Well, back to the serious issue at hand, "Mama Anu, can you tell me how I got here?"
She suddenly uses the heel of her palm to hit her head, her head must have been made out of rock since she doesn't even wince at the contact, "How I forget? I suppose tell that first. Forgive me, dear.
"It's okay, Mama Anu." I smile a bit, even though I am so confused.
"I tell you little, my son, Vikram tell you rest, hmm?" I give an eager nod.
But before she could say anything else a voice calls from outside the room, "Maa, khaanaataiyaarahai." (Mother, food is ready.)
"I tell you, Vikram, no speak Hindi to me," She yells at whoever just called her. "How I learn English if Vikram speak Hindi to me?" She asks me, spreading her arms out. How would I know?
She suddenly grabs my hand, pulling me out of the room with her. I swear this woman can give one a heart attack with her sudden actions. "Come meet Vikram, he is your," She stops suddenly, making me almost bump into her. "what you call person who help you from trouble in English." I open my mouth to speak but she beats me to it, "Yes, I remember, savior. Vikram is your saviour." Then resuming to dragging me along, she says, "Come meet your saviour."
My saviour?
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I wonder how this so called Saviour managed to save our Margot from kidnap🤔
Are you as curious as I am???
VOTE, COMMENT and SHARE They are like Energy drinks. They give me the strength to write more and more.
Thanks cupcakes😉
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